


'tis the damn season

by daisylincs



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hallmark Rom-Com, Alternate Universe - No SHIELD (Marvel), AoS Topsy-Turvy Hallmark Holidays, Christmas Romance, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Girl-and-Girl-Fall-In-Love, Girl-and-Girl-are-idiots-but-figure-it-out eventually rom-com, Mention Of Homophobia, Mention of Racist Slurs, Minor Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie/Yo Yo Rodriguez, Minor Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse, Past Skye | Daisy Johnson/Grant Ward - Freeform, Romance, Your Classic Girl-Meets-Girl-In-A-Small-Town-At-Christmas, also my first multi-chap, complete with cliffhangers for drama, oh yes I really love this :D, probably my favourite thing i've ever written, skimmons - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisylincs/pseuds/daisylincs
Summary: Recently single interior designer Daisy Johnson returns to her small town at Christmas time to appease her sassy friend, and magically falls in love with a sensitive girl in plaid.(A Skimmons Hallmark Rom-Com, written foraosficnet2's Topsy Turvy Hallmark Holiday challenge.)
Relationships: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie & Skye | Daisy Johnson & Yo Yo Rodriguez, Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 37
Collections: AoS Topsy-Turvy Hallmark Holidays





	1. we could call it even

**Author's Note:**

> Today is the first day of _my_ holiday, so I'm very, very happy to present you all with the first chapter of my Skimmons holiday rom-com! 😍😍😍 I don't know how many of you remember, but Mid-November or thereabouts, I pulled up a Hallmark prompt thingy and asked you guys to generate a fic for me - and now, finally, that fic is here!!! 
> 
> A very big thank-you to everyone who played along and prompted me for this - @maybebrilliant, @sadtunes, @tomatobookworm, @holdendadcliffe, and @leahnonsense, _cheers,_ because without you guys, this fic would never have become a reality. 
> 
> Special thanks, too, to Aubrey, for her cheerleading and encouragement (and the occasional and much-appreciated _hey, remember to write about girl in plaid!)_ during the writing process. You were absolutely _fabulous,_ and without any doubt another person without whom this fic would _never_ have become a thing. 
> 
> One more thing before we get into it: I have never actually written a multi-chapter fic before, and, in true me style, I was originally planning for this to be a one-shot. But the more I wrote (and again in true me style, lmao) the longer it got… and eventually that just wasn't realistic anymore. Anyway, I also thought it might be pretty fun to try out something new (*coughs* leave you all on the worst cliffhangers *coughs*). So yeah! We'll see how it goes together :D
> 
> All titles are from _evermore._
> 
> Now - happy holidays, all, and I hope you enjoy this fic!!!

Daisy finished typing up her Christmas update post and chewed her lip, reading it over. Very light, and playful, and bubbly, and all in all the exact _opposite_ of how she was feeling right now, stuck, as she would be, spending the holidays by herself. 

She tried not to think about _why_ she would be alone, but as was _always_ the case when you were trying not to think about something, her mind shot straight to that. 

_Ward._

It had all been going so well - at least, she thought it had. Fresh out of university, she had moved into a tiny, ugly flat - and made it her personal project to improve the little place in her free time. She cleaned the place from top to bottom, painted the walls a light eggshell blue, searched online for throws and cushions in a slightly darker, complimentary shade, and designed and made all kinds of kitschy, quirky ornaments to scatter at random throughout the flat. 

Within a month, it had transformed into a much lighter, twenty times more attractive place - with the clever choice of smaller furniture strategically positioned close to the walls making it seem like there was a lot more space than there actually was, and the pale blue of the walls giving it a cool, relaxing kind of feel. The decor she had designed herself was simple enough not to be overwhelming, but still stylish, chic and modern, and the overall effect was such a pleasant one that you could barely believe it was the same ugly, cramped little flat. 

On a spur-of-the-moment decision, she had posted before-and-after photos on Instagram, tagging them with the exultant tagline _sky's the limit, guys!_

Then she had celebrated herself, and her much nicer surroundings, with a large bottle of wine, and promptly knocked herself out till the morning. 

When she checked her Instagram the next day, she couldn't believe her _eyes._ Her simple photo post had _exploded,_ and everyone - _everyone -_ was begging for more. 

She hadn't been able to _believe_ it that first day, and had to keep pinching herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming - but when the likes and praise just kept flooding in, she had decided to take it one step further and make a design blog. 

She had been able to believe it even _less_ then, and had spent the rest of the day convinced that she wouldn't get so much as a single follower - but, lo and behold, before the day was out, she had racked up twenty followers, with two of them sending her requests for design tips. 

She still hadn't been able to believe it, even as she sent those first requesters answers and sketched out some simple designs to them.

She said as much on the blog, laying her utter amazement and awe bare for the world to see, and, in a stroke of genius even if she did say so herself, giving herself the online name Skye. 

People _loved_ it, loved her. And they loved her designs. 

And soon, Sky's the Limit was flourishing, until Daisy was making so much actual money out of it that she could move out of her tiny flat into a much larger, much nicer place in LA. 

That was where she had met Gra - _Ward._ He wasn't _Grant_ to her anymore, now or ever again. 

He had been then, though - him and his dark eyes and perfect athlete's body and entirely-too-attractive smile. 

And _compliments._ Oh, how he had complimented her - telling her how amazing it was that she had managed to build something so tangible and _beautiful_ up for herself from next to nothing. 

It _was_ amazing, especially because she really had _had_ next to nothing. The foster system had never been kind to her. 

That, she found out, was something that Gra - _Ward -_ shared too, and for the first time, she had someone she could _talk_ to about what it had been like, someone who _got_ it, and someone who _cared._

Well. She had _thought_ he cared. Now, in hindsight, she could see that he had actually a self-obsessed, elitist asshole who had needed someone young, pretty and gullible to sing his praises and fill the twisted void his parents had left in him. 

That wouldn't have been so bad, except that, apparently, _one_ pretty, gullible young girl wasn't enough. 

And when Daisy had found him in bed with Kara, he had had the gall to be furious with _her,_ ranting on about how she was trying to limit him, and didn't have his best interests at heart, and didn't love him properly. 

She saw, then, how obsessive and unhealthy his "love" actually was, and slammed the door and left him with it on the spot. 

But much as she knew it had been the right thing to do, it still _hurt._ It hurt because, hollow as it made her feel to admit, she was just like Ward. She wanted to feel loved and needed, and she wanted to love in return. 

And she had _tried_ to, dammit! She had given him three years of her life, and given it with everything she had. 

And now she had… a very attractive, but very _empty,_ LA penthouse for Christmas, with only a bowl of ice-cream and a large bottle of wine to keep her company in place of a warm body beside her. 

Her heart ached, ached with fury and regret and _longing_ \- not for _him,_ even, just for someone who would hold her close on a cold night to keep the nightmares away, and murmur sweet nothings into her hair to make her smile and believe it was all going to be okay. 

Feeling a little sick, she snapped her laptop shut, pressing her hands sharply against her temples and making herself draw in a deep breath. 

It _was_ going to be okay. 

She didn't _need_ someone else, after all - she was independent and smart enough to get by on her own, and do it well; Sky's the Limit was living proof of that. 

But still… whether she needed it or not, she _wanted_ it. She wanted someone _there_ to shield her from the worst of the world's cold, someone who she in turn would try to shield. She wanted someone to surprise her with a meal when she was overworking herself, someone to memorise her stupidly complicated coffee order and bring it to her with an affectionate eye roll. She wanted someone to wait up for her with a soft smile, and greet her with warm arms when she came home. She wanted the safety and comfort and _security_ that came with someone she knew she could trust to always be there for her. 

She had never had that, never really - but she wanted it all so badly that it made her eyes prick with hot tears. 

She sniffled, dabbing ineffectually at her eyes with the back of her hand. _Dammit._ This was exactly what she _didn't_ need tonight - she _had_ to get that holiday post up! 

But that just brought her back to the cold sting of loneliness as she looked at her empty planner, to the awful hollow emptiness in her heart that _ached_ to be filled, but just couldn't, _wouldn't --_

The clear ring of her doorbell cut through her thoughts, and she jumped up, straightening her spine and firmly swiping away the tear-tracks on her cheeks. There was only one person who could possibly be visiting her at this time of the night - well, two, but they'd be together. 

"Hey, Mackelena," she said, going over to the door and greeting her friends with a warm grin. 

They rolled their eyes in perfect sync, but they were smiling, too, as they stepped inside. 

"Good to see you, D," Mack said, ducking his head to avoid the low-hanging art-deco light she may or may not have put there specifically because she knew he'd hit his head on it. Elena seconded the sentiment with, firstly, a smirk at the light antics, and then a much softer, more affectionate look for Daisy. 

She tucked her hands into her pockets, her own smile softening too, into something warm and fond and entirely _not_ -fake, regardless of how entirely awful she had been feeling just moments ago. 

It was _always_ good to see her friends, even if they _could_ be the world's nicest assholes sometimes. 

Like now, for example. 

Elena took one look around the penthouse and folded her arms, her eyes landing on Daisy with a clear challenge in their dark depths. "Maya," she said, using the nickname that was specially hers for Daisy (it was the soft form of _Margarita,_ which was Spanish for _Daisy,_ and what Elena had called her for a long time after Daisy'd hired her and her art skills to help work on designs for Sky's the Limit. The softer form was a sign of incredible trust and love, as it was usually only used by family members, or closest friends. To date, Daisy was still deeply touched by it - which was, of course, why Elena was using it to get her attention now.) 

Daisy winced. "Yes?" 

Elena nodded around the penthouse, her eyes flashing. "What is this?" 

Daisy looked around, pretending to be deep in thought, then clapped her hands as though she'd come to a momentous realisation. "It's my house!" 

Mack stifled a snicker, and Daisy shot him a small salute, biting back a grin of her own. 

Elena rolled her eyes and snarked back without a second of pause, "It's a prison cell." 

Daisy pouted. "It's way too pretty to be a prison cell," she protested, folding her arms again. "Besides, if it _is_ , it's at _least_ half your fault, 'cause you designed just as much of the stuff in here as I did."

"No, it's definitely a _pretty_ prison cell," Elena agreed, eyes glinting, "but you might as well spray-paint _Single And Sad About It_ across the walls in bright red for all the happiness you're getting here." 

_"Elena!"_ Daisy protested, half an indignant shriek and half a cringe at the unfortunate accuracy of that statement. 

"Sorry, in _purple,"_ Elena amended, clicking her fingers. "We don't want to mess with my beautiful decor." 

She was smirking at Daisy, all confidence and unapologetic mockery, but there was genuine concern and caring in her eyes. 

"We don't like to see it, Maya," she said, and her voice was much softer now. "You shouldn't let that -" she said something in Spanish which Daisy didn't understand, but which was _definitely_ not complimentary towards Ward, or his health - "get you down."

"I know, I know," Daisy said, trying for a reassuring smile, which both Mack and Elena saw through immediately. 

_"Daisy,"_ Mack said, his voice gentle but firm. _Don't give us that._

She pinched the bridge of her nose, blowing out a long sigh. "I'm sorry, I just… it's so hopeless, you know?" 

"It's definitely hopeless if you stay in this admittedly pretty hide-hole of yours," Elena shot back immediately. 

"What do you suggest, then?" Daisy asked, spreading her arms as though to say, _fire away_. 

Elena, unfortunately, interpreted the gesture exactly right, and did just that. "Go on a holiday," she said simply. "Get out of this place where everything reminds you of _him,_ and start fresh with a cute foreigner."

"Cute foreigners aren't my type," Daisy protested, which they both knew was a blatant lie, _and_ a blatant deflection. "Besides, where would I even go? Everywhere is full already." 

"Not _everywhere,"_ Mack said as though he had been _waiting_ for her to say that, which, she realised, he probably had. "Not somewhere ridiculously tiny." 

He pulled out his phone and held it out to her, swiping so she could see a screenshot of a flight special he must have taken earlier that night. 

_Come home for Christmas,_ the little banner read, followed by the text, _half price on all flights to Shieldsbury!_

She glanced up from the phone to meet Mack's eyes, then Elena's. "No," she said, and when neither of them budged, _"no!"_

"Why not?" Elena asked, crossing her arms challengingly. "It's somewhere different, and somewhere _nice."_

"It's not my _home,"_ Daisy argued, though the words rang false even to her. Shieldsbury was where she had rented her first apartment - the ridiculously tiny and ugly (and also ridiculously _cheap)_ place whose redecoration had spawned Sky's the Limit. 

"Maybe not," Mack said smoothly, "but it's a _break._ You know just as well as I do how pretty Shieldsbury gets in the winter." 

She _did_ know - she had taken advantage of many a snow-laden conifer tree and mistletoe bush to advertise her Christmassy designs. And that, actually, was how Mack had first met her - wrapped up in a mass of scarves and bent nearly double on the ground in front of a small patch of holly, a heavy camera in her hands and a string of muffled curses about how she couldn't wear gloves and take photos simultaneously on her lips. 

Ever the good Samaritan (and the good mechanic), he had invited her into his house and helped her set up a tripod and an automated system that would take all the photos for her. And he had done it all _free of charge._

She had been so stunned, and so touched, that she had swung by his place with a whole crateful of her proudest designs - and thus a partnership was born. He helped her with the practical, mechanical side of things, and she prettied up his apartment, to the endless delight of his mother. 

He had even, the day she made enough for her big move to LA, agreed to come with her - _claiming_ that she wouldn't be able to manage the by-now-very-complicated systems on her own as his reason for coming along. 

But the soft, big-brotherly look in his eyes had told a whole different story, just as it did now. 

Her resolve wavered as he kept looking at her like _that,_ all soft and fond and _I-care-about-you-whether-you-can-believe-it-or-not._ "Alright," she said, floundering to find a good reason to say no, "but I can't just _leave!_ I have Sky's the Limit, and my responsibilities to them, and -" 

Quick as a flash, Elena had crossed over to her laptop, flipped it open, and read through the as-yet-unposted holiday update. "I don't see any reason why you can't go on here," she said, tapping her fingers against the wood of Daisy's desk, "but if it's _really_ a problem, I can just -" 

With a few quick strokes of her fingers, she added another paragraph, which Daisy lunged across to read. 

_I'm very excited to tell you all I'm going on a little holiday back to Shieldsbury this Christmas! Who knows, I might even find some new holiday-amazing inspiration there xD_

Daisy _gaped_. What was she… how could she… Elena even had her 'Skye' voice down right! 

"You can't just _do_ that," she spluttered once she had recovered some of her wits, gesturing in indignant amazement down at her laptop. 

Elena smirked at her. "Really?" 

And before Daisy could stop her, she hit _Post._

Daisy shrieked and grabbed for the laptop, but the damage was done. Within a couple of seconds, there had already been seven likes, and even as she watched, a comment popped up. 

_So glad to see you going back to Shieldsbury!_ bob-the-bird had written, with unusually excellent spelling and grammar for an online commenter. _It's beautiful there, and I'm glad to hear you're taking a break. You're a rockstar, and I hope you really enjoy your holiday!_

Daisy looked up at Elena with murder in her eyes. "Now look what you've done!" 

"Oops," Elena said, entirely unapologetically, smirking at Daisy. 

Under her breath, Daisy muttered her best approximation of what Elena had called Ward in Spanish a few minutes ago. Elena laughed, rich and loud, and Mack joined in with a quiet chuckle. 

_"Hija de mil putas_ or no, I care about you, Maya," Elena said when she had gotten over the worst of her laughing fit, her gaze turning soft and sincere. 

Daisy muttered the only Spanish curse word she reliably knew - _"mierda"_ \- not-so-subtly under her breath. The sassiness and snark, she could deal with, and match in kind, but _sincerity…_

Dammit, it got her every time, and Elena knew that. 

"I see what this is," she said, glaring at them both to try and hide just how close she was to capitulating. "You're trying to set me up with someone to even out because _I_ set _you_ up." 

Mack and Elena, however, both knew her well enough to take this for the agreement it was, regardless of the teasing about how they had gotten together (because, yes, it had been entirely her, and she was still ridiculously proud of it. She'd known the second she met Elena that she and Mack would be perfect for each other, and once she'd seen how downright excellent her art skills were… well, it was a hire made in heaven. One "team dinner oh no oops something came up I can't make it anymore you two go on without me" later and Mackelena was officially a thing - and the three of them's friendship all the sweeter for it.

So much sweeter, apparently, that bribing/downright _forcing_ her to go on holiday was an acceptable occurrence.) 

"So you'll go?" Mack prompted now, his eyes impossibly full of caring. 

Daisy let out a long, drawn-out groan, launching herself dramatically into her stylish couch and burying her face in the purple-patterned throw pillows. _"Fine,"_ she muttered, her voice muffled through the soft cotton. 

"Didn't quite catch that," Elena said, her voice warm with laughter. 

Daisy sat bolt upright, glaring ferociously at them both. _"Fine,"_ she repeated, and if looks could kill, they would both have been dead on the spot. "I hate you both so, so much." 

"I'm sending you the screenshot now," Elena said with an angelic smile, at the same time as Mack said, "We love you too, D." 

They grinned at each other, doing a sweet little fist-bump that was so downright _adorable_ that Daisy pretended to gag. 

"Alright, _alright,"_ she said, managing not to grin like a sappy idiot (but it was a narrow thing.) "I have a flight to book now, _apparently,_ so get out of here, the both of you." 

They did, but not before wrapping her in a very tight and very warm hug. "Go forget about everything and make yourself damn _happy_ for a few weeks, okay?" Mack murmured into her hair. 

She made a soft humming sound, hugging them both a little tighter before reluctantly letting go to show them to the door. 

"Email us your booking reference!" Elena called over her shoulder just before the door closed. 

"Go dunk your head in a bowl of yo-yos," Daisy shouted back, which was an inside joke stemming from the day a drunk Elena had suggested a bowl of yo-yos as a good decor idea. 

She was just in time to see Elena's grin before the door shut, and, despite herself, Daisy couldn't help grinning back. 

They were really such _assholes_ sometimes, these best friends of hers - but they also had her best interests at heart. Always. 

And, anyway, what harm could a little holiday do? They were right, she _had_ been overworking herself lately, and getting away from Ward-tainted LA would definitely be a good thing. 

Besides, Shieldsbury _did_ get very pretty in the winter, and she _could_ use some new inspiration. 

Her mind made up, she flipped open her laptop again and navigated to the link in the screenshot Mack had sent her. 

Nothing major was going to come of this holiday, right? Like, _sure,_ she had teased Mack about wanting to even out, but it wasn't like they were _actually_ trying to set her up with someone in Shieldsbury, or anything.

Because, seriously. It had obviously been pure chance for them to see that flight ad - there was literally no way for them to have arranged a blind date for her. 

(No, she wasn't adorably in denial, these were just _facts._ )

They might have been _hoping_ she'd meet someone on holiday, but a hope was just that - a _hope_. Fanciful. Impossible. Especially where she, Daisy Johnson, and her _rotten_ luck in dating, came in. 

So, yeah. She had nothing to worry about. 

Because, come on. It was just _Shieldsbury_ \- normal, nice, and Christmassy. What was the worst that could happen?

Well, okay, no, better not to even think that. 

But really - it was going to be _just fine._

She _definitely_ wasn't going to magically meet someone there, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's totally going to magically meet someone there, amiright? *whispers* And we all know who it's going to be… 🤣🤣🤣😍😍 Next chapter - Skimmons.


	2. time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy bumps into a cute girl in plaid on her way up to her cabin - and then _keeps_ bumping into her throughout her stay. Is it chance, is it fate... or is it the owner of Coulson's Corner Store?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, my Skimmons lovelies!! 🥺🥺💜 Man, it has been a WHILE since I've seen you all, what with Secret Santas and New Year craziness, but I finally have the next chapter for you guys - an extra long one, with lots and lots of Skimmons. And, I really hope that sounds good to you, because it sounds pretty darn good to me xD I know the holidays are officially over, but in my mind, that's all the more reason to write holiday fics, to provide a bit of a much needed lightness and holiday cheer. 💜😍
> 
> So now, since this is such an _evermore_ -inspired fic - _long story short,_ I'm really happy to be back with my Skimmons babies, and I hope you guys enjoy Chapter 2!! 🥰

Daisy stepped out onto the smooth tarmac of Shieldsbury Airport, her stylish blue travel bag slung over one shoulder… and promptly slipped, her boots skidding on the wet, icy surface of the landing strip. 

Yelping, she pinwheeled her arms wildly, just-just managing to to prevent herself from falling ungracefully onto her ass. 

Shieldsbury. Snow. _Right_. 

Feeling like a total idiot, she picked her way much more slowly and carefully across the snow-streaked tarmac, gripping the strap of her blue travel bag tightly with both hands. She wasn't making thatmuch of an idiot of herself, God - _that_ would be quite a way to start her first day of holiday. 

_And anyway,_ she thought, _Mackelena worked way too hard to get me here, I am_ not _letting them down like that._

Daisy Johnson was better than that, stupidly tiny country airports with no shuttles be damned. 

The _one_ good thing about stupidly tiny country airports, though, was that getting her main luggage and clearing security was _much_ less of a hassle - she was out of the airport and breathing in the fresh, crisp air in just under half an hour. 

_A personal record,_ she thought, her mood turning up immediately. That wasn't half bad, was it? 

Maybe this holiday _would_ turn out to be a good one, after all. She had only _almost_ slipped - things were going great! 

And, as she found her rental car already waiting for her exactly where it was supposed to be, she felt that feeling grow. 

Fine, she hasn't wanted to come here - but as she stood under a snow-laden conifer tree, her cheeks flushed bright pink from the cold, she thought that maybe things _would_ go well from here on. 

… Except, she should have known _much_ better than to even think that, because the second you thought that, _well._

Daisy had been prepared for snow, and had packed all her warmest coats, matching hats, scarves and mittens. She had even downloaded and watched a few snow-driving tutorials, just to be sure she had the thing down. 

She had not _,_ however, banked on _rain_. 

Specifically, rain plus snow. _Specifically_ specifically, rain plus snow on a tiny, winding mountain road up to her cabin. 

The results? _Slush._

A thick, soupy slush that wasn't quite snow and not quite mud either - which, to her great dismay, was getting into the innards of her car at an alarming rate. 

Now, Daisy was no mechanic like Mack, but even she knew that clunking, _sloshing_ sounds underneath her vehicle's belly didn't mean good things. 

She was just hitting the brakes to slow down and see if she couldn't do anything about the problem, when, with a sickening _slickkkk_ sound, the wheels spun out beneath her, and before she could so much as open her mouth to yelp, her car had skidded right off the road, landing unceremoniously in a dip at the side of the road, and flattening a beautiful growth of holly bushes as it did. 

It took a moment for the ringing sounds in Daisy's head - and, bizarrely, little floating pictures of _Gill's Blizzard_ soda cans - to fade away, but when they did, she determined that she was mostly unhurt. 

Well… she could still feel all her limbs, and remember every Spanish swear word Elena had ever taught her, so that was something. 

Very slowly, she pushed open the car door, flinching as a veritable _rain_ of snow came showering down on her. 

_Great._ She'd always thought snow-flecked hair was cute, but snow- _drowned_ hair… not so much. 

Laying into Elena's broad selection of Spanish curses under her breath, she poked her foot out of the car, and promptly followed the foot with the rest of her body… only to sink, waist-deep, into the biggest snowdrift she had ever had the misfortune of encountering. 

_Perfect._ Now she was covered in snow from head to toe, _literally._ When she had said she needed inspiration for new holiday-themed decorations, this had _not_ been what she meant. 

Heaving herself out of the snowdrift, she turned to look at her rental car, feeling a flood of dismay rise up in her as she did. The car wasn't _badly_ damaged, she had been very lucky in that regard - there were just a few scratches in the paintwork courtesy of squashed holly bushes, and _one_ nasty-looking dent by the left headlight. 

The reason for her flood of dismay, though, was none of that - because, relatively unharmed as the car was, it was also _stuck in a giant freaking snowdrift,_ with nothing around them but… snow. There wasn't anything she could use to clear the snow in front of the wheels away, and there _certainly_ wasn't anything she could use to build a ramp out of the drift. 

So in short: she was screwed. Well and truly screwed. 

She had just finished deciding that when, to her surprise and delight, she heard the low hum of what _might just be_ another car's engine a little ways up the mountain. 

Scrambling out of the dip and into the road, she listened as intently as she could, determining after a moment that she had, indeed, been correct - there was another car approaching. A _truck,_ too, if the roar of the engine was any indication. 

She waited for it in the middle of the road, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, and seriously hoping that the cold hadn't made her delusional, and she wasn't imagining things. 

But no. Barely a minute later, a huge, army-green truck crested the hill in front of her, making its way slowly (but a lot more steadily than she had) down the twisting mountain road. 

Oh, this was _perfect,_ and not sarcastically at all this time - a truck this big would _definitely_ be able to haul her poor little rental out of the ditch, and maybe give her a ride to boot. All she needed to do was flutter her eyelashes imploringly and play damsel-in-distress at whatever self-important white dude was driving - 

The door opened, and Daisy readied her most piteous, beseeching expression, clasping her hands under chin for extra effect… only to freeze completely, her mouth dropping open, as a short, brunette _woman_ stepped out. 

And not just any woman, either - a _cute_ one, with soft brown hair with an adorable little bounce just above her shoulders, and a warm, cheerful sparkle in her brown eyes. 

"Uh," Daisy said eloquently, momentarily losing her speech capabilities completely as the very bi part of her brain went, _hellOH._

The woman - who, Daisy noticed, was wearing what appeared to be a blue puffer jacket over a soft plaid shirt, a combination that should _never_ have worked, at all, but on her just looked downright _adorable_ \- smiled at her, her cheeks dimpling and the corners of her eyes crinkling with laughter lines. "Hi," she said, with a little wave at Daisy. 

And… _whoa._ Her bi mind, kept under lock and key for far too long thanks to Ward's _sensibilities_ (another point against the asshole, _ugh)_ was going absolutely crazy now, repeating a nonsensical combination of _pretty!!_ and _girl!!_ and _smile!!_ and _ahhh!!_ over and over again in a spectacularly unhelpful loop. 

Plaid Shirt Girl's forehead crinkled when Daisy remained mute, and, taking a small step forward, she asked, her eyes filling with sincere concern, "is everything okay?" 

And, alright, Daisy Johnson was a lot of things, hopelessly bisexual definitely being one of them - as currently being irrevocably proven by her brain chanting, _she's nice! she's pretty and she's nice and she's cute and she has a BRITISH accent!! -_ but one thing she was _not,_ was a bad flirt. 

And bi disaster or no, that was _not_ changing today, thank you very much. _Mack and Elena_ were the ones who blushed and crushed with no idea what to do about either of those things - _she_ was the "smooth fucker," as Elena had once drunkenly (and accurately) put it, flirting and setting people up like a pro. 

They might have tried to even her up in the "setting up" department with this little holiday, but they would _not_ be ousting her status as the pro flirt. 

And, anyway, she wasn't necessarily going to _flirt_ with Plaid Shirt Girl - she just needed to, you know, not act like a _total_ human disaster. 

Which she could totally do - she was _Daisy Johnson,_ the girl who had set up a design blog worth millions from a crappy university flat. 

Clearing her throat, she turned her attention to Plaid Shirt Girl, whose frown was by now etching little furrows into her brow - and with a small frown of her own for effect, she answered the other woman's question, "No, actually, everything is _not_ okay - my car is currently lying in that ditch." 

Plaid Shirt Girl's eyes widened sympathetically as she followed Daisy's pointing finger. "Oh, yes, that's not exactly the dictionary definition of _okay_ , is it?" she asked with a wry but sweet kind of humour that Daisy immediately decided she _loved._

"It's this dreadful slush," Plaid Shirt Girl continued, her forehead crinkling again and her accent turning the word _slush_ into something unbearably cute, like, _sloosh._ (Daisy could swear some part of her brain actually went, _aww.)_ "It's really very unsafe to drive on." 

Daisy nodded at that, wincing at the poor squashed holly bushes in the dip in front of them. 

"You know, this is the first time I've actually been _glad_ my brother makes me take his awful truck when I go down to town," Plaid Shirt Girl said confidingly, half-leaning forward to Daisy with a conspiratorial smile, that, Daisy had to note, looked _especially_ cute on her. "I should be able to help you out of there in a jiffy!" 

"Thanks, that'd be _great,"_ Daisy said gratefully, forgetting her freaking out about her companion's adorableness for a moment to thank all her lucky stars that she wouldn't be stuck with her car in a ditch. 

Plaid Shirt Girl smiled brightly, tucking a curl of hair behind her ear, and, nevermind, Daisy _definitely_ hadn't forgotten about her adorableness yet. That _smile…_

But she could focus, especially when it was her car rental money on the line - and focus she did, until they had fully managed to haul her car out of the dip, which they actually _did_ manage in a jiffy thanks to Plaid Shirt Girl's brother's big truck. 

"Oh my God, you're a _life-saver,"_ Daisy told Plaid Shirt Girl when all four wheels of the little rental car were safely back on the road. 

She ducked her head, half-hiding behind her hair, but Daisy could see the dimples in her cheeks. "I don't get to hear that a lot, what with an ex-SAS brother," she admitted, glancing up and shaking back her hair so Daisy could see that she _was_ smiling, infectiously so. "Mostly it's Jemma-get-your-nose-out-of-that-book, or Jemma-there's-more-to-life-than-science." She rolled her eyes, but there was affection behind it, Daisy thought. 

And she _would_ have been freaking out over how cute her smile was all over again - in fact, she was pretty sure some part of her brain _was_ doing that regardless - but most of her attention was focused on the fact that she'd just found out Plaid Shirt Girl's name. 

_Jemma._

It suited her, Daisy thought, tilting her head slightly to the side and smiling in response to Plaid Shirt - to _Jemma's_ \- infectious, bubbly enthusiasm. It just _sounded_ warm, and nice, which was exactly what the woman in question was. 

Plaid - _Jemma -_ seemed to realise what she'd said a second later, and she slapped her palm lightly against her forehead before holding out her hand for Daisy to shake. "Sorry, yes, I'm Jemma." 

"Daisy," Daisy said, taking her offered hand. She squeezed it lightly as she shook, meeting Jemma's eyes as she said, "And you're _my_ hero, much more than your dear brother would ever be. He sounds like an asshole." 

Jemma laughed out loud, bright and full of happy surprise. "He is, a little bit," she agreed confidingly. "But he's nice, too." 

"Aww, one of those," Daisy said, feeling herself go all soft at the way Jemma's eyes filled with affection. 

_Best asshole in the world._ She knew that feeling. 

Despite herself, her lips tugged up in a little grin, and she thought of Mack and Elena smirking at her from the doorway. 

Yeah, she knew that feeling _two-fold._

Still smiling to herself, she gave Jemma's hand a gentle squeeze - then stopped dead as she realised what she had just done.

 _Jemma's hand._ She was still holding Jemma's hand! 

Drawing on Elena's creative selection of Spanish swear words for the third time today, Daisy dropped Jemma's hand like it had burned her and took a sharp step back. Mentally, she cursed herself with every equivalent of _idiot_ she could think of - _where's that smooth flirt now, huh?_

Fortunately, Jemma was blushing just as hard, if not _harder,_ than she was. "I'm so sorry," she stammered, brushing her hair back even though it was already behind her ears. "I got a little, uh…" 

"Don't worry about it," Daisy said, waving her hand as though it wasn't tingling like crazy from the prolonged contact with Jemma's. Seeing an opportunity to regain her pro flirt status, she added with a wink, "It's not like I _minded."_

"Oh, I didn't either," Jemma said, her eyes going a little _starry_ , unless Daisy was very much kidding herself. "Your skin is very soft."

Then she clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes widening in horror as she realised what she had said. "I-I mean," she stammered through the gaps in her fingers, "you're a very nice person to hold hands with?" 

"Thanks," Daisy said, grinning wider than she could remember doing since Ward left. "I'll take that as a compliment." 

In front of her, Jemma groaned loudly, her hands still over her mouth. "I'm just going to escort myself out of here," she said, raising her hands so they were covering her eyes, too.

Daisy surprised herself by _laughing,_ actually laughing. "But what if I need rescuing from another snowdrift?" she asked playfully. 

Jemma lowered her hands, tapping her chin thoughtfully instead. "I'll drive after you and make sure you get to your destination safely, how's that?" 

Daisy was simultaneously surprised, touched, and more than a little guilty. "Oh, no, I didn't mean -" she tried to protest, but Jemma wasn't having any of it. 

It turned out that, in addition to being cute and British and ridiculously nice, Jemma was _also_ impressively stubborn. So she and Daisy rode in convoy up the twisting mountain track, exchanging grins through Daisy's rear-view mirror. 

And Daisy _tried_ to be logical about this and not let herself fall in too deep, she really did. 

After all, Jemma had her family (or brother, at least) to go back to, and something very time-consuming in science by the sounds of it to keep her busy. Daisy, for her part, just had a short holiday here, before she had to go back to LA, and the so-called friends who were already clamouring to write books about her. 

Well, okay, no, not _everyone_ in LA was fake - she had two very special people indeed waiting for her there. 

But that wasn't the point - she'd be be going _back_ to them soon enough, and she'd probably never return to Shieldsbury again. So the chances she and Jemma would meet again were smaller than small; getting her hopes (and her heart) up was a stupid, stupid thing to do. 

But despite all her logic, Daisy was grinning like an idiot as she waved goodbye to Jemma after pulling up - _safely -_ in front of her cabin. 

Her grin widened as Jemma waved back, smiling too, bright even through the hideously tinted windows of her brother's truck - and, though she'd deny it to her dying day, _especially_ if Mack or Elena asked, Daisy's smile remained until _well_ after the last splashes of mud kicked up by the truck's tires had dropped back to earth. 

//

The next day, Daisy woke with a start, the way she always did the first night in a new place - she never slept _well,_ particularly, but first nights were especially bad, something which she'd always thought was a remnant of just _how_ many first nights in different places she'd had. 

Sitting up in bed, she raised herself enough to peep out of the window… and immediately decided, _hell no,_ she wasn't going out there anytime soon. Everything was covered in a veritable _blanket_ of snow, and she was starting to get cold just from looking at it. 

Shivering, she drew the blankets closer to her body, snuggling deep into their warmth. From her new position, she saw her phone, and the Always-On-Display time she had set because she hated feeling like she couldn't control any aspect of her life - and it said, _7am._

Burrowing tighter into her warm cocoon, she squeezed her eyes shut and decided on the spot that there was no way in _hell_ she was getting out of bed anytime soon. 

She was on holiday, for God's sake! She didn't have to think of anything work-related - or work _-time_ related - at _all_ today. 

She could be as lazy as she wanted. 

… As it turned out, she kind of sucked at being lazy, though. Daisy was the kind of person who always had to feel like she was _doing_ something - long years staring at the unchanging grey walls of her dorm in the orphanage had taught her that doing nothing could drive you crazy, or to depression. Keeping busy, though, kept those demons away, even if it was just an illusion. 

So just after 8am, she was out of bed again, rummaging through her cupboards and muttering curses under her breath as she found them empty, empty, and… empty. 

Last night, she'd still been reasonably full from eating on the plane, crappy airline food or no, so she hadn’t particularly felt like she had needed to eat anything. Also, uh… she _may_ have still been walking on sunbeams so much after her Jemma encounter that it had completely slipped her mind. 

But this morning was a _completely_ different story, and though the thought of _Jemma_ still sent a happy little tingle through her veins, it was completely overridden by the loud rumble of hunger from her stomach. 

"Right, then," she said, poking her middle. "Breakfast it is." 

She'd always been a woman of action, and so she dressed quickly, heading out to the car and determining that, _thankfully,_ it hadn't rained last night, so slush wouldn't be a problem. 

Ha, _slush -_ for some reason, she was still hearing that word in Jemma's lilting accent, and it made a grin pull at the corners of her lips no matter how hard she tried to squash it. 

_Be sensible,_ she tried to chide herself. _It's not like you're ever going to see her again._

Except, as it turned out, that assumption couldn't be more wrong. Because, as she pulled up in front of Coulson's Corner Store, she saw none other than _Jemma's brother's army-green truck_ parked outside the door. 

It was probably her brother. It had to be her brother, right? 

Still, Daisy couldn't help the little thrill of excitement that shot through her as she pushed open the door, the tinkle of a little bell ringing to _Jingle Bells_ announcing her arrival. 

She forgot completely about the bell, Christmas-cutesy as it had been, because the next sound she heard was _so_ much sweeter. 

"... _No,_ I'm not buying you a stun baton, for heaven's sakes, your wife is _pregnant,_ she's allowed to be a little unreasonable… Fine, yes, Flamingo _is_ a ridiculous name for a baby, but that doesn't give you the excuse to -"

Still talking nineteen-to-the-dozen on the phone, Jemma rounded the corner of the shelf, her attention so focused on her conversation that she completely forgot to pay attention to her surroundings, by the looks of it - and Daisy, frozen upon hearing her voice, couldn't get out of the way in time. 

_Crash._

Daisy and Jemma collided around the corner, hard - sending the contents of her shopping basket (which, Daisy had to note, did _not_ include a stun baton) flying in all directions. 

"Bloody _hell!"_ Jemma yelped, quickly followed by, "Oh my gosh, _Daisy,_ I am so sorry!" 

"No, it's good, it's good, this is as much on me as it is on you," Daisy said, rubbing her head wryly. "Here, let me get those apples for you…" 

Bending, she retrieved the bag of apples, followed by, bizarrely, two bottles of vinegar, a couple of tins of bicarb, half a dozen packs of paper clips, and a complicated-looking bundle of wires. 

She handed them back to Jemma, not quite hiding the way her eyebrows were climbing up her forehead. "Uh…" 

"I'm trying to design an organic power cell for work," Jemma explained, taking the items with a quick smile. Then she added, firmly, into the phone still pressed against her ear - "shut up and goodbye, _Lance."_

"Sorry about that," she apologised, ending the call with a quick tap. "It's my brother, he's being -" 

"An asshole you somehow still love?" Daisy guessed with a wry grin. 

Jemma positively _beamed_ back. "Exactly." 

"Still, an organic power source, that's so _cool!"_ Daisy said, leaning over to put the last packet of paper clips in Jemma's basket. 

She gave a rueful laugh, half-ducking her head. "Well, it's very far from complete, but -" 

"Still cool," Daisy cut her off, shooting her a double thumbs-up. 

Jemma's smile widened. "Well, _I_ certainly think so," she said, shifting the basket further up her arm so she could gesture with both hands. "To me, the _project_ is what draws me to science - taking a bunch of things that are completely unrelated, _useless_ even, and giving them a purpose. Making them all work together, like…" 

"Pieces solving a puzzle," Daisy said softly. 

Jemma gave her a surprised look, but then nodded, slowly at first, then again, much more vigorously. _"Exactly,"_ she said, eyes shining. "Pieces solving a puzzle. And it's… it's _beautiful."_

"I get it," Daisy said, unable to stop a massive grin from spreading across her face. "Oh my God, I _get_ it! I mean, it's not exactly the same, of course, since I'm an interior designer not a scientist, but -" 

"You're an interior designer?" Jemma asked, raising her eyebrows in what seemed to be a very impressed kind of way. _"That_ is so cool." 

It was Daisy's turn to duck her head, smiling through her blush. "Thanks," she said, tucking a stray strand of hair quickly behind her ear. "I mean, science is probably cooler, but -" 

_"Not,"_ Jemma mouthed emphatically, but Daisy pressed on. 

" - but there's something very special to meabout interior design, too. It's like you said - taking something that's meaningless or boring at the beginning, and utterly transforming it till it's _beautiful._ And for some reason, it's especially satisfying to do online, and see how much my work can mean to people I've never even met." 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jemma said, holding up both hands and looking, Daisy had to note, more impressed than ever. "You do this all _online?"_

"Well, yeah," she said, half-grinning. "I have a blog, there's quite a big market for it, apparently." 

_"Wicked,"_ Jemma breathed, her eyes alight with genuine awe. "I could _never -_ I swear computers hate me." 

For a moment, Daisy was so stunned that she just gaped - but then she _cackled,_ loud and completely unapologetic. "A scientist who can't use computers?" she asked through a fit of giggles. "That… is… _priceless."_

Jemma huffed, folding her arms. "It's not that I can't _use_ them, they just don't like me, everything goes wrong when it's me on the PC, and… hey, stop _laughing."_

She was glaring, but Daisy noticed with delight that there was no force behind it. 

"Sorry, sorry," she said, trying and completely failing to hide another round of giggles. 

"I could throw you with these apples, right now," Jemma warned, lifting the green plastic bag threateningly. 

Daisy just shot her an impish grin. "And risk the wrath of Mr Coulson?" 

"Oh, no, he's a _sweetheart,"_ Jemma said, waving her hand. "It's his _wife_ you've got to worry about." 

Apparently, the worry was large enough that Jemma immediately lowered the bag of apples, glancing apologetically around the little shop. 

Daisy was impressed - whoever Mr Coulson's wife was, she sounded like quite the woman. 

_I think I'd like her,_ she thought. _But not as much as I like Jemma._

Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, _hold up._ Where had that come from?! She didn't like Jemma, not as in, _like_ like - she had only known her for… a day! Less than that, actually, if you wanted to be mathematical about it, since they had only met yesterday _afternoon._

And you couldn't reasonably get to _like_ like someone in that little time, even if said someone _was_ ridiculously adorable, in yet _another_ plaid shirt - soft red and pink, this time, by some strange coincidence matching very well with Daisy's own stylish pink coatdress. 

No, she didn't have a crush, she was just… Jemma was nice. And she needed more nice people in her life, especially after _him._

Yeah, that was it. That was it, and that was all. 

Even if they _had_ just connected over similar parts of their jobs, and it _had_ felt ridiculously good. 

Jemma was speaking, Daisy noticed with a little start, wincing at herself for drifting off into her own little world. 

"... have to go work now, I'm sorry," Jemma was saying with a very apologetic expression. 

"Oh my God, don't let my holidaying ass keep you, then!" Daisy exclaimed, very smoothly, she thought, for someone who had only very recently exited glazed-eyes-land. (Her "smooth fucker" status was officially restored, _hell_ yeah.) 

And, feeling particularly pleased with herself in that moment, she added, "But if you need some computing help, you know where to find me." 

Jemma rolled her eyes, and hugely so, but there was the tiniest of grins tugging at her lips. "Yeah, yeah," she said, playfully bumping Daisy's arm with her shopping basket. And, dear God, it was a _shopping basket -_ it had _no_ right to send that many tingles shooting up and down her body. 

"It was really nice to see you again," Jemma told Daisy with surprising and heartstring-tugging sincerity when her basket had stopped swinging, catching and holding Daisy's gaze with warm, earnest brown eyes. 

Daisy swallowed, feeling as though all the friendly teasing had been siphoned out of the moment, replaced with something… _deeper,_ and infinitely more heart-skip-inducing. "Yeah," she managed through a suddenly dry throat. "It was really nice to see you, too." 

Jemma shot her a final small, warm smile, and Daisy could have sworn her timeline stopped right there for a few minutes, because when she snapped back into reality, she was still standing in exactly the same place, the same dazed smile on her lips. 

Mr Coulson - because it had to be him, in a faded Captain America T-shirt and a smile that just _exuded_ warmth and trustworthiness - came forward, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. "Are you looking for something?" he asked, lifting her some of the way - but _not_ all the way - out of her daze. 

"Yes, uh… cornflakes," she said, with no small effort remembering why she had come here. "And sandwiches. Do you have ready-made sandwiches?" 

They did, and Daisy loaded up several, thinking that was her lunch for today and the next couple of days sorted. 

She paid and went back out to the car appearing perfectly normal, but in reality, she was running on autopilot - her mind was focused on a warm, sunshine-sparkle smile, a cute accent, and the effortlessness of their connection howevermany minutes ago. 

It was honestly a small miracle that she got back up to her cabin safely, and managed to pour milk onto her cereal without spilling it all over the counter. 

It wasn't until she absent-mindedly reached for paper and a pen mid-way through her breakfast when she realised what part of the feeling currently spacing out her brain was: she was _inspired,_ for the first time since she'd decisively broken up with one Grant Ward. 

Her breakfast completely forgotten now, she grabbed the paper close to her, and started to sketch, everything but the scratch and stroke of the pencil on paper fading from her mind in a kind of creator's trance - 

And when, some half hour later, she was done, and came back to herself fully since the idea had come to her in the middle of a corner store, she _had_ to smile at what she had created. 

There, on the paper in front of her, was a single _rose,_ simple but breathtaking in its detail. 

And not just any kind of rose, either - an _English_ rose. 

With a motif of snowflakes etched around the border, and just a _splash_ of mud at its base. 

//

Daisy spent the rest of that day working on her design, re-drawing it professionally on her iPad, and fiddling with colours and gradient ratios until the darkness outside her windows told her it was night-time. 

This design would, she decided, look _super_ cute as a printed eye-catcher on someone's wall - small and more subtle, but _very_ pretty and pleasant for the space it did use. 

It would also, she thought, look absolutely _wonderful_ as a cross-stitch design on an artsy throw pillow - but in order to test that theory, she'd first need a cross-stitching kit.

So the next day, she was up and out of bed as soon as her internal clock let her, eating a hurried breakfast of cornflakes before scrambling down to the car and rushing to Coulson's Corner Store. 

A remarkable little place, really - it had pretty much _anything_ you could think to look for. If you knew where to look, that is. 

"Excuse me, sir," Daisy called, leaning over the counter and dinging the register to attract Mr Coulson's attention. 

He appeared from the back immediately, his alert look softening into a welcoming smile when he saw her. "Well, hello again," he said warmly. "How can I help you?" 

Daisy smiled back, touched at the man's easy warmth and friendliness. _This,_ she thought, _is why I love Shieldsbury so much._

"Hi," she greeted, resting her elbows comfortably on the counter. "I was wondering if you had any cross-stitchingkits?”

Mr Coulson's expression turned interested, and he leaned forward a little, meeting her gaze with what seemed to be genuine curiosity. "You enjoy cross-stitching?" 

"Not usually," she admitted with a wry grin. "But I had the best idea for a design, and -" 

"You just _have_ to try it out?" he asked knowingly. 

Daisy nodded, the touched feeling in her chest expanding more and more. He wasn't just pretending to care so he could brush her off later - he _actually_ thought she was worth giving the time of day.

Come to think of it, nobody in Shieldsbury had _ever_ treated her like she didn't matter, like she was just an ugly, unwanted and unwanteable little _half-breed_ who they'd rather pretend they didn't know - no, they valued her. 

That was why she had bought her little flat here in the first place - and, _boy,_ had it ever paid off! She was pretty sure Sky's the Limit would never have happened without Shieldsbury, so actually, it felt… full-circle to be back here. 

She smiled contentedly as Mr Coulson held up two fingers, disappearing into the back where she could hear him calling, "Mel? Where are the cross-stitching things?" 

His wife replied with something Daisy couldn't quite catch, and there followed a muffled conversation which she could only catch a few words of - _"no"_ and "persuading me" and "ridiculous romantic" and "tomorrow, then," none of which made any sense. 

A moment later, a short Asian woman in a dark puffer jacket walked out, shaking her head with what seemed to be a mixture of amusement and exasperation, the exasperation being in the larger measure. 

Mr Coulson followed her out, looking contrite. "I'm so sorry," he said to Daisy, "but we don't have any cross-stitching kits, it's pretty niche equipment and not requested that much… We're receiving new stock tomorrow, though, and I _think_ I might have ordered some." 

"Oh, okay," Daisy said, a little surprised - but it made sense, after all, didn't it? Cross-stitching kits _weren’t_ general corner store merchandise, to be fair. 

"If you come back at… two o'clock tomorrow, we should have stock for you," Mr Coulson continued with a cheerful smile. 

Daisy half-raised one eyebrow, thinking that two o'clock seemed like a pretty specific time… but then again, maybe Mr Coulson's deliveries were very punctual, and he just wanted to help her out as much as he could. 

Yeah, that would _definitely_ be it, she thought, looking at the man's friendly smile and kind eyes. 

"I'll be here tomorrow at two, then," Daisy said, smiling over the counter at Mr Coulson. "Thanks a lot." 

He looked genuinely delighted at the news, she thought, smiling like he'd just been given an early Christmas present. "I'm so glad! I can't wait to see you," he said warmly. 

Daisy felt her eyebrow rise a little further, and a part of her wondered, _is there something he isn't telling me?_

But a much larger part said roundly, _he's just being_ nice, _just because you're not used to it doesn't mean you should be suspicious of it._

However, just as her hand touched the doorknob, Mr Coulson spoke again, the sparkle in his eyes simultaneously cheery and a little knowing, like… well, the best way she could think to describe it was the classic Santa look, jolly and full of infectious joy, but simultaneously _wise_ , and like he was keeping a secret. (A _good_ kind of secret, though.) 

Anyway - "Miss Johnson, did you know that Shieldsbury, this little shop especially, is known for being a place where you can find true love?" 

Behind Mr Coulson, she saw his wife roll her eyes as she sorted through a pile of paperwork - but, Daisy noticed, there was the tiniest of fond grins tugging at her lips. 

_True love._

Mr Coulson smiled at her again, the Santa-twinkle back in his blue eyes. "Have a good day." 

And even though the door of the little shop had long since closed behind her, cutting off the little Jingle Bells chime, she could still hear Mr Coulson's voice in her head. 

_Did you know that Shieldsbury is known for being a place where you can find true love?_

Without any prompting, and without her consciously making the decision to, Daisy's mind jumped to Jemma - _Jemma,_ and her bright, warm smile, the kind of smile that could light up whatever room she walked into; Jemma, whose intelligence was only dwarfed by her kindness and compassion; Jemma, who she had laughed and connected with and downright _teased_ in a way that had felt nothing other than natural, and _right._

It had been so _easy_ to talk to her, confide in her, share things with her - and, with a scary jolt, Daisy realised that she could barely imagine her life without her. 

Also, she'd very much like to kiss her, actually. 

But, what the _hell,_ both those things were utterly _ridiculous_ \- what was _wrong_ with her? She had only had two significant conversations with Jemma, she couldn't _possibly_ be that far gone that she couldn't imagine her life without her! 

In fact, she shouldn't be "gone" any lengths at _all,_ she shouldn't even have a crush on Jemma - 

Completely absorbed in her thoughts, she hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings at _all,_ and the next thing she knew, there was a sharp pain shooting up her foot. 

_Mierda,_ ow - she had stubbed her toe, and _hard,_ too, against the edge of the kerb! 

Muttering more Spanish curses under her breath, Daisy hopped on one foot, hissing through her teeth as her toe continued to throb. 

She had to look absolutely _ridiculous_ like that, she thought wryly, one foot in an admittedly very stylish boot raised high in the air - 

And that was when she realised, with a sharp mental prickle not unlike the feeling of stubbing her toe, that she didn't just _look_ ridiculous, she was _being_ absolutely ridiculous, too. 

What the _hell_ had she been thinking just a second ago, about Jemma? 

And more importantly, why the _hell_ had she been thinking it? 

Hadn't she been wishing, wishing with all her heart, and almost to the point of tears, for a _someone,_ just barely a week ago? Hadn't she been tearing herself up completely over having to spend the holidays alone? 

Well, now she had the _chance_ to be with someone - just a slender chance, it was true, but a chance that came with a wonderfully warm smile that made her heart skip in a way it hadn't for _years -_ and she was _denying_ it to herself? 

Jemma was literally the _personification_ of everything she had been looking for, that chilly night in her LA flat - almost the _exact_ opposite of Grant Ward. She was warm to his cold, open to his constant brooding, and compassionate and kind to his calculating indifference - and, just between the two of them, she was _way_ cuter, too. 

So then why - _literally why -_ was she denying herself the chance to have everything she wanted? Why was she trying to persuade herself that she didn't have a crush, that she shouldn't even _try,_ when Jemma was likely the best thing that would ever happen to her? 

It was, she realised with another prickly jolt, combined with a cold, disgusted kind of chill, all because of _Ward._

She was actually letting the asshole _get_ to her, with his pointed barbs and carefully targeted attacks about how nobody would really love her or care about her, how she wasn't _worth it,_ except to him, so leaving him would be a mistake, she'd never find happiness again - 

Well, Ward could go _fuck_ himself. 

Being in Shieldsbury again, and having that small, warm encounter with Mr Coulson and his wife, had reminded her that there _were_ good people in the world, people who weren't fucking manipulative _assholes,_ people who genuinely _cared,_ even if they didn't know her that well. Good people. 

A prime example, of course, was _Jemma,_ who had not only pulled a woman she'd never met before out of a snowdrift, but also _driven up half a mountain_ just to make sure she got home safe.

And honestly? Ward and his fucking emotional manipulation could go die in _hell,_ she wasn't letting him or his poison getting to her for a second longer. 

She _deserved_ a someone who was the exact opposite of Grant Ward, someone who would love her in all the ways she'd always longed for, and someone she could love _back,_ with no fear that they'd ever turn that love on her. 

She thought of her newest design, of the English rose with its little snowy border and tiny splash of mud, and she thought - the next time she saw Jemma, there would be no more denials, no more letting fucking _Ward_ manipulate her into shooting herself in the foot. 

No, not anymore. 

She deserved a good thing, she _did,_ no matter what his venomous little voice in the back of her mind tried to tell her. She deserved to at least _try._

And the first chance she got, she resolved, she _would._

//

Her new resolve filled the rest of her day with a sharp, steely kind of determination - and, if she was being completely honest, she had _no_ idea where the aforementioned "rest of the day" went. Or the night, for that matter. Or the next morning. 

The first time she was really and properly aware again was when her brain _somehow_ remembered she was supposed to be at Coulson's at two, and miraculously succeeded in getting her there, only for her to push open the door and hear --

"Always nice to see you, sir." 

She'd recognise that accent - that voice - _anywhere,_ and, her brain suddenly snapping into high, _high_ alert, she stepped into the shop proper. 

"Jemma," she breathed, hardly believing her eyes. "You're here!" 

Jemma turned around, and the surprised delight in her eyes sent Daisy's heart skipping beats left, right and centre in pleasure. 

_"Daisy,"_ she said, looking just as star-struck as Daisy felt. A grin started to spread across her face, bright and wide and _happy,_ and she took a little step forward as though she might _hug_ Daisy. Or kiss her. 

That last part was probably her disaster brain speaking, but, oh, _God,_ Daisy thought she might actually die of happiness if Jemma did - 

For her part, Jemma seemed to remember that Daisy had asked a question, tucking a strand of hair awkwardly behind her ear as her smile turned just a little bit embarrassed. "Right, um, sorry, yeah, I'm here because I come do my shopping every second day at two, well, yesterday was an exception because I got… distracted the day before and forgot half of my things, not that I'm blaming you for that at all! I'm very glad I met you, and, gosh, I'm rambling, aren't I, I'm so sorry, you don't want to hear this, I - "

But Daisy had stopped listening about three embarrassing sentences ago, instead stepping forward and catching the other woman's arm. 

"Jemma?" she asked softly, and the plaid-shirt-owner in question stopped rambling immediately, her breath catching slightly in her throat. The moment stretched out a little bit, Daisy's hand on Jemma's arm, Jemma's lips parted slightly as she looked up slowly to meet Daisy's gaze. 

Their eyes locked, and held, and Daisy could swear she felt something crackle in the air between them, the moment turning into something thrumming with expectation and… _special._

She licked her lips, thinking a final _fuck you, Ward_ for good measure, and screwing up all her I'm-the-creator-of-Sky's-the-Limit-I-can- _do_ -this courage. Then - 

"Will you go out with me?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and yes, I'm really cutting it there. :D I'm such a lovely, lovely person, aren't I? And the best/worst (best for me, worst for you) part is, I actually have the entire rest of that scene already written out, I'm just choosing to be a deliberately cruel author and make you guys wait till next week to see what Jemma says.
> 
> :D :D See you all next Thursday!


	3. now I'm missing your smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions are answered, dates are gone on, and everything is pretty much perfect. Until, of course, it isn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo, Skimmonsers 😍😍🥰 I've been joining you a lot lately, and I must admit there's a part of me who thought I might get tired or frustrated with writing so much of one ship, but... nope. DEAD nope!! These two beautiful girls have my entire HEART, and I don't think I could _ever_ get bored of them 🥺🥺🥺 I love them, Your Honour. 
> 
> In other news, during the writing of this fic, and this chapter specifically, I have become completely and utterly obsessed with 'tis the damn season, [the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M), and I [listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [to](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [as](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [often](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [as](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [I](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [can.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [And](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [then](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [about](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [ten](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [times](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [after](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) [that.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuvhOD-mP8M) :D
> 
> No, but, seriously, it's just _so good,_ both musically and lyrically, and I am just like... askadjgskglafsklgah 😍😍😍😍 GENIUS!! Really the best inspiration to draw from when writing - so if you guys like this chapter, send some virtual kudos on to Taylor Swift for its incredible theme song (🤣😍) too! 😘

“Will you go out with me?” 

Jemma gasped, then flushed a very pretty shade of pink, pulling her hand out of Daisy’s and brushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear with a flustered kind of smile. “Oh, um, you mean you’d like me to walk out with you to my car - to our very separate cars? Because if so, I just have a few more things I need to buy before I can -” 

“No, I don’t mean out to your car,” Daisy asked, simultaneously fighting back the urge to, firstly, roll her eyes and wonder if anyone was really _that clueless_ ; secondly, start grinning like a smitten idiot at how adorably she pulled off said cluelessness; and thirdly, start panicking that she had misinterpreted things _horribly_ and there wasn’t anything between them, after all. 

_No._ She was sure she wasn’t the only one who had felt their connection, she was sure of it - but if she _was_ , there was still only the one way to find out, wasn’t there? 

“No,” she repeated out loud, reaching for Jemma’s hand again. “No, I didn’t mean like _out to your car_ , I meant the other thing - like a date. You know.” She found herself blushing almost as hard as Jemma, but she forced herself to hold the other woman’s gaze as she pressed on, “So what do you say?” 

_“Well,”_ Jemma began, and though her cheeks were still very pink, her whole face had lit up with a dazzling smile, and instead of looking awkward or embarrassed, she just looked… radiant.

Unfairly so, really - how was Daisy supposed to function in _any_ way like a sane human being if a smile like _that_ was directed right at her? 

Plus, _well_ wasn’t an answer, it was just… well!

“Well?” she repeated, pretending not to notice how her voice squeaked up half an octave at the end, and hoping Jemma would do her the same courtesy. 

She did - actually, Daisy thought she might _really_ not have noticed, if the giddy, star-struck look in her eyes was anything to go on. 

“Well,” Jemma said again, and honestly, Daisy was starting to _hate_ that word, particularly for how _not_ -yes-I’m-definitely-going-on-a-date-with-you-and-actually-let’s-make-out-right-here it sounded.

“I’d love to,” Jemma said at last, and Daisy _grinned._

“Wait, really?” she asked, giving a short, half-incredulous and half-utterly-delighted laugh and generally struggling to believe her luck.

Jemma laughed too, in much the same way, reaching up to fix her hair again, even though it was practically flawless already. “Yes, really,” she said, ducking her head to study the floor, which, while it _did_ have a pretty stunning Oriental-style rug covering it, was nowhere _near_ as intriguing (or as delightful) as the news Daisy had just received.

She wished she could tell Jemma to look back up at her, to take her hand and drop everything, right now, to run out into the snow with her, Christmas-movie style…

Then she realised that, _actually,_ she could do that.

She could do _exactly_ that.

Jemma had just agreed to go out with her, and _not_ just out to their cars - that was tantamount to saying, _hey, I’m just as bisexual as you are, and I’m just as interested, let’s go out and have a scamper among the wildflowers,_ or… whatever British slang for dating was. 

(Yeah, okay, Daisy had no idea where the wildflowers thing had come from, or the scampering - but, hilariously, and just a _little_ bit worryingly, her mind inserted it in an accent that sounded nearly perfectly like Jemma’s. So what that said about her crush levels was… Yup, moving on.)

The point was, Jemma had basically said she liked her, too, which meant that Daisy was _completely free to indulge in as many Christmas-movie snow runs as she wanted_ , more or less.

Realising her jaw had dropped, Daisy snapped it shut and gave Jemma’s hand - which, she realised belatedly, and with an entirely unhelpful little shivery tingle, she was still holding - a quick squeeze. 

“Hey, Jem,” she said, the nickname coming familiarly and easily to her tongue, “What do you say we get out of here and see about that date?” 

“What, right _now?”_ Jemma asked, so surprised that she completely forgot her study of her carpet, and her blushing (the first of which was a relief, and the second… well, she’d miss the cute pink flush, but happily-stunned was a good look on Jemma, too. 

At least, she _hoped_ it was happily-stunned.)

Jemma was biting her lip, looking from Daisy to the sciencey aisle and back to Daisy. “I really can’t,” she began apologetically, directing her gaze back towards the sciencey things. “I still have almost a whole afternoon of work to do -” 

“But if I know you at all, you’ll have finished the work that was _supposed_ to be due today at least a week ago,” Mr Coulson said, appearing suddenly next to Jemma’s elbow. 

Jemma jumped, pulling Daisy with her by their joined hands, which resulted in them colliding in a clumsy mess somewhere in the middle - an outcome which, despite the shock of it, Daisy was _entirely_ okay with. After all, during the confusion, Jemma’s hands had landed on her waist and held on tight, partly to steady herself, and partly to steady Daisy.

And, honestly, _who_ was she to complain about something like that? 

Plus, this newfound closeness let her see all the little blue-and-green lines of today’s plaid shirt in pretty detail, and, more importantly, it let her smell the soft cherry scent of Jemma’s shampoo. 

_“Sir,”_ Jemma said when she had recovered somewhat, pressing one hand against her heart. “You nearly scared the living daylights out of me!” 

Her _other_ hand, though, remained loosely wrapped around Daisy’s waist, a tiny detail that most _definitely_ didn’t escape her, or the horde of giddy, tingly butterflies that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her stomach.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mr Coulson said, not looking sorry at all. “I just wanted to see if I could be of any help to you too?” 

He smiled serenely down at them both, but Daisy was sharp enough to catch the distinctly mischievous, _interfering_ twinkle in his eyes.

She felt her jaw drop all over again. This _man_ … how _awfully_ convenient that he had told her to come to the corner store at two o’clock, which just _happened_ to be the time Jemma came in every second day…

But then Jemma’s arm tightened around her waist, and Daisy lost her train of thought entirely as a breathless, tingly kind of thrill shot through her.

“I… suppose you might have a point,” Jemma said slowly, absent-mindedly drawing little circles on the fabric of Daisy’s coat just above her hip, something which wasn’t making her nearly forget how to stop breathing, not at _all._ Nope. Absolutely not. 

“I _am_ just a little bit ahead in my work,” Jemma continued thoughtfully. “I _suppose_ that taking one afternoon off wouldn’t be -” 

“Excellent!” Mr Coulson exclaimed before she could even finish that sentence fully, waving his hands in a shooing motion at them both. “Now, I’ve just remembered, my wife and I have a very urgent errand to attend to right this minute. Out, the both of you, now!” 

Daisy rolled her eyes, not believing in this “errand” for a _second_ \- but then again, she currently had Jemma Simmons' arm around her waist and her soft blue-and-green plaid T-shirt brushing against her side, so how much could she _really_ complain?

And, no, she didn't have a thing for plaid shirts, thank you very much. Mack wore plaid shirts _far_ too much for that to be doable in any way… No, she was pretty sure she just had a thing for plaid shirts _on Jemma._

And, actually, she was pretty sure she had a thing for plaid shirts _off_ Jemma as well, but that was a thought for another day. 

Except, of course, if today went really well, which it actually _might._

Daisy tried and failed to suppress the burst of giddiness that shot through her at the thought - she was going on a date, and there was _actually_ a chance that it might go well. 

More than a chance, really, if the way Jemma was still holding her close was any indication. 

_(Ahhhhhhhhhh,_ her mind provided, helpfully.) 

But, internal shrieking or not, she was more than capable of following Jemma out of the little shop when she finally conceded Mr Coulson’s point and agreed to take the day off.

Unfortunately, Jemma had to loosen her arm from around Daisy’s waist for the purposes of, oh you know, _walking_ \- and though she instantly missed the feeling of Jemma’s touch, she thought she _might_ be able to stand it for the purposes of walking to a date.

“By the way, the Zephyr Cafe down the block has the best coffee in Shieldsbury!” Mr Coulson called after them as he waved them out of his little corner store. 

Half-turning back, Daisy shouted back over her shoulder, “Don’t forget your important errand, sir!”

She caught Jemma grinning from the corner of her eye, and when she turned to face her properly, they managed to keep straight faces for all of half a second before they both burst into laughter.

And it was _cold,_ it was freezing cold and the wintry wind brought an extra bite of chill with it, but she didn’t feel _any_ of it.

Daisy shook her hair back, feeling her cheeks glowing with laughter, and the other _L_ thing, tentative and in its freshest stages, but definitely still there. 

She beamed at Jemma, and Jemma beamed back, and with the gentle snowflakes falling around them and settling in their hair and on their coats (or, in Jemma’s case, plaid shirts), the moment felt… special. 

It felt like there might really, _really_ be something here.

Daisy grabbed Jemma's hand, lacing their cold fingers before dashing forwards through the snow. "Come on, let's go!" 

"Where to?" Jemma asked, half-laughing and half-fixing her hair as she followed, pulled along by her hand. 

Daisy turned to grin back at her. "Does it matter? _You're_ here!" 

And the smile she received back told her that she had definitely been right.

// 

They _did_ actually end up going to Zephyr Cafe, which _did_ actually end up having amazing coffee (though _Jemma_ wouldn’t be able to attest to that, given her completely unbelievable decision to pick _tea_ over coffee.)

But Jemma’s questionable taste in hot drinks aside, they had the most _incredible_ time together - because after a small period of awkwardness, Daisy, who was _completely_ fed up with the way they were barely even holding gazes without flushing, said - 

"You know, we're being worse than my two best friends on _their_ first date," she had said, rolling her eyes across the table. 

That, of course, prompted the question, "your best friends?" which in turn prompted Daisy to launch into the story of her setting Mack and Elena up (and her subsequent sweet-talking of the restaurant owner to let her watch the progress of their date through the side door to the kitchen.) 

Jemma had a good laugh at that, and her eyes had twinkled as she responded with a story about the time her brother, still in the SAS at the time, had met and fallen in love with his now-wife when they were sent on the same mission - to retrieve a _handkerchief,_ of all things. Sure, it had been a handkerchief with an eagle stitched onto it in gold thread, but still - a _handkerchief!_ Daisy hadn't even realised anyone still _used_ handkerchiefs. 

But apparently, it was a _thing_ \- and while Bobbi had succeeded in retrieving the handkerchief for the CIA, Hunter had made a point of asking to be sent on the next American-British competition mission just so he could beat Bobbi to the object they were supposed to be retrieving. 

Apparently it had become quite the game for them, and apparently it had taken Bobbi taking a shot for Hunter for them both to realise that, hey _wait,_ snark and nationalism aside, they actually fit each other pretty perfectly. 

As soon as Bobbi had gotten out of the hospital, they had tied the knot - the knot in their case _literally_ being a knot, with Bobbi's wedding dress's ribbons around the necks of the poor ninjas who tried to break up their wedding. 

It was one of the best stories Daisy had ever heard, and, well, she just _had_ to answer with a story of her own. 

And before either of them really knew it, the entire afternoon had flown away. 

Being with Jemma, talking and laughing with her, was just so _easy._ With several of the Zephyr Cafe's excellent cheesecakes to accompany their coffee, not even hunger disturbed their happy little bubble - it only broke when, with a reluctant grin, the co-owner of the Zephyr had to chase them out for closing time. 

"Come back soon, though," the man - Davis - called after them, giving them a friendly wave as he closed the door behind them.

Daisy and Jemma both waved back, and then Daisy barely had to think about taking Jemma's hand, looping her fingers through the other woman's. "Dinner?" she asked, and Jemma beamed. 

The ease - effortlessness, really - of their conversation stayed for the length of the meal, even when the subject turned to their respective jobs, and Jemma launched off on a long recital about her science. 

But the thing was, even if she only knew about half of the words currently coming out of Jemma's mouth, she still _wanted_ to listen. And, yeah, a good part of it was her mildly losing her mind because Jemma looked _so freaking cute_ when she was excited and gushing about the thing she loved - but another part, a part that somewhat to Daisy's own shock was _bigger,_ was genuinely interested in what Jemma was saying. 

And, like. She had _never_ had an interest in science, literally never - she had dropped it as soon as she possibly could in high school. 

But _Jemma_ \- even if she hated and didn't understand science, she was willing to listen to Jemma talk about it for hours, just to learn more about _her_ , and this thing that was special to her. 

And that was… well, with her attention still focused on Jemma, half smitten with the look in her eyes and half genuinely interested, she didn't _fully_ process the thought through to its completion, but some tiny part at the very back of her mind realised it: _I've never had anything like that before._

She had never had a relationship where she actually cared so much about the other person; where the thought of _not_ caring that much, of _not_ being interested, barely even occurred to her. 

_(Fine,_ yes, and though this was directly in contradiction to her noble sentiments from earlier, she had to admit that Jemma really _did_ look insanely adorable when she was talking about science - she lit up completely, her eyes shone with a mixture of passion and intelligence, and you could almost _hear_ the smile behind the bubbly-and-excited-but-still-way-more-educated-than-Daisy-would-ever-be tone of her voice. 

But, come on, she could be noble and have a giant crush simultaneously, right?) 

Case in point, the hours with Jemma simply _flew_ by, and when they had finished eating dinner, it was nearly ten o'clock - but to Daisy, it felt like it had only been five minutes. Simultaneously, and a little confusingly, it also felt like she had known Jemma for _ever._

It was a strange feeling, but… it was nice. 

As they were pushing their chairs back, Jemma tilted her head just slightly and shot Daisy a smile so warm that it could have melted all the snow outside, reaching out to catch her hand. 

A little happy thrill shot through Daisy at the combination of the touch and the smile, and she thought, oh, _yes,_ it was definitely nice. 

And, hand in hand, they walked through the night-quiet little town with its snow-hushed streets, the soft hooting of owls and the gentle _swish_ of snowflakes falling the only sounds around them. 

For the fun of it (and, frankly, because neither of them wanted the night to end), they window-shopped in all the little shops they passed, making their best guesses at their wares as lit up by the intermittent rainbow flicker of Christmas lights - 

"Come on, Jem, you'd look _fantastic_ in that dress."

Jemma blushed almost as red as the dress. "Oh, _no,_ I couldn't possibly -" 

"What, if it's not plaid, you can't wear it?" Daisy joked, knocking her shoulder affectionately into Jemma's. 

Jemma rolled her eyes, but there was only affection behind it. "I don't think I'd look good in it, that's all," she said, determinedly picking up her pace to pass the little place. 

Daisy, however, stopped her with a gentle tug at their joined hands, standing her ground when Jemma tried to pull her along. 

"I think," she said when Jemma gave in and stopped, "that you'd look _wonderful_ in it - because you're _you,_ Jemma." She had to stop to catch her breath, her heart-rate speeding tremendously in her chest despite the short and relatively relaxed nature of their walk so far. 

Gathering herself, she continued, meeting and holding Jemma's gaze sincerely, "And you're _wonderful._ One of the most wonderful people I've ever met, in fact." 

Jemma breathed out a shaky sigh, dropping her gaze to the snowy cobbles below them and tucking a strand of hair firmly behind her ear. "I'm sorry, I'm not really very good at the whole… girlfriend thing," she admitted after a moment, looking up at Daisy again and biting her lip. "Not like you." 

A jolt of something that felt a lot like protectiveness, combined with something softer and sincerely touched, shot through Daisy's body, and she stepped forward, placing her hands firmly on Jemma's waist, just above her hips. 

Jemma's quick, sharp little intake of breath matched the skip of Daisy's heart - but, pleasant as that feeling indisputably was, she had something very important to say here, and she _would_ say it. 

_"Hey,"_ she said, her voice soft but fierce. "Look at me. You are _not_ a bad girlfriend, I've known you for three days, and I can already promise you that." 

"Besides," she continued, raising her voice when Jemma opened her mouth to protest, "I'm not really _good_ at the whole dating thing either, just so you know." 

Jemma blinked at her, her brown eyes confused but somehow still full of compassion. "But you're so… smooth!" 

"I'm glad you think so," Daisy said with a flash of a mischievous grin. It faded fast, though - there was a time and a place for jokery, but this was not it. 

"It's not true, though," she said, feeling the words catch slightly in her throat as her orphan's instincts screamed, _no_ , don't lay your soul bare like that, what are you _doing?_

Ignoring them, Daisy pushed on, "I'm just pretending that I know what I'm doing, acting like I don't have a care in the world, faking like it's all fine, like _I'm_ fine… I'm very good at it. _Very."_

Jemma's gaze had transitioned completely into compassion by now. "Well, I hope you know you don't _ever_ have to pretend with me," she said, reaching down to cover Daisy's hands with hers. 

Daisy's breathing hitched, but she managed a nod. "I wasn't," she said quietly, but more truthfully than she had to any romantic partner since… probably _ever._

"And I hope _you_ know that the same applies to you," she said, loosening her hands from around Jemma's waist so she could clasp both her hands instead. "You don't _ever_ have to be worried when you're with me, I want you to just… relax." 

Jemma, still biting her lip, nodded slowly, but Daisy could tell she wasn't convinced. 

"Hey," she said again, even more gently than the first time. "This _doesn't_ have to be perfect at all. It just needs to be _good_ , for us both." Sweeping one thumb in a gentle loop across the back of Jemma's hand, she continued, "And that means no worrying, because trust me, worrying _sucks."_

"Except, of course, for the butterflies-in-your-stomach kind," she noted, tilting her head to one side and shooting Jemma a half-impish, half-fond grin in an attempt to lighten the situation. Quirking her eyebrows, she asked, "You do get butterflies, right?" 

"Oh, _yes,"_ Jemma said, chuckling as she ducked her head, directing her gaze somewhere over Daisy's shoulder with distinctly pink cheeks. "In fact, I think I see one right over -- oh my _God."_

Her tone was so shocked, and so downright _mortified_ , that Daisy had to spin around and see what was causing it. 

And when she did, she couldn't help but grin. 

"Well," she said solemnly, "tradition is tradition." 

Stepping forwards, she gently untangled her and Jemma's fingers so she could cup her cheeks gently in both hands. 

Both of them stopped breathing for a second, Daisy thought, and they were both grinning with the same fizzy, tingly mixture of nerves and excitement. 

And as she glanced at the little bunch of mistletoe _oh_ -so-carefully hung on the branch of the tree they were standing under, she couldn't help but remember Mr Coulson's words - _Shieldsbury is known for being a place where you can find true love._

She _also_ couldn't help but wonder how synonymous "true love" and "mistletoe" were in his books. 

But when Jemma made a small, half-humming little exhaling sound, all thoughts of anyone but her flew straight out of Daisy's head. 

"Yes, we most certainly can't disappoint tradition," Jemma breathed, leaning forwards fractionally so that their faces were mere inches apart. 

And, technically, Daisy had been waiting for this definitive sign that Jemma felt the same, but she found _herself_ completely out of breath when Jemma's gaze darted once, and very deliberately, down to her lips. 

Her lips parted slightly, and she leaned forward too, holding Jemma's gaze until the last possible moment and feeling like she was drowning in a sea of rich, warm, affectionate, sparkling brown _perfection…_

Then her eyes fluttered shut, and she could feel the tiny inhale and exhale of Jemma's breath against her cheek, their lips so close now that they were just-just not brushing - 

_Ringgggg_.

Daisy jolted back, almost bumping her nose against Jemma's, and freezing as the sound rang out again, loud and sharp and _ruining_ the moment. 

_Ringgggg, ringgggg, ringggggggg -_

With a startled hiss, she realised that this notice - this obnoxious, _bloody_ noise, as Jemma (or her brother) might say - was coming from _her phone_.

Half-way to chucking the device onto the snowy road, though, she hesitated, little alarm bells ringing in her head as her mind snapped out of its _kiss-kiss-kiss-AHHHHHHHH_ daze. 

There was only one person who had that specific ringtone on her phone, and Mack would only be calling if it was _really_ urgent. 

"I am _so_ sorry," she told Jemma, and she didn't think she had ever meant the phrase more, "but I have to take this." 

Jemma, who was currently managing to look both shell-shocked and star-struck at once, managed a faint nod. 

_Thanks_ , Daisy mouthed, then swiped Answer on the call. 

"Mack," she greeted, pressing the phone to her ear and hoping that she didn't sound too irritated - though that was, in fact, exactly what she was. Freaking _furious_ , in fact - of all the _terrible_ times to call…

When he spoke, though, Mack sounded so utterly exhausted that all of Daisy's annoyance evaporated in an instant. 

"Daisy," he said, and she couldn't remember him ever sounding this tired, except for that one night a year he kept vigil for Hope. 

"You need to come back to LA," he said simply, but the words fell like a hammer blow. 

Daisy spluttered. "Wh-what? Why? I can't just…" 

"It's Ward," Mack interrupted, and now she could detect a distinct tone of low, quiet fury beneath the exhaustion. 

She felt a similar feeling spark in her, but she forced herself to stay calm, deadly calm, as she asked, "Why, what's he doing?" 

"He's started a lawsuit against Sky's the Limit," Mack said, and there was no mistaking the disgust in his voice, even with over a thousand miles between them. "He claims that you pirated _his_ designs and used them without crediting him to make millions, then, when you were rich, you didn't need him anymore, and dumped him like yesterday's trash." 

Daisy couldn't help it. _"What?!_ That fucking piece of - that is just - how _dare_ he!" 

Because she had never, never in her _life,_ used anyone's design without crediting them fully. _She_ wasn't a lying, treacherous _snake_ , unlike some people she could mention. 

"How bad is it?" she asked, forcing herself back into that state of cold, deadly calm. She found herself envisioning Mr Coulson's wife as she did, and, surprisingly, it _helped._

"Bad," Mack said heavily. "'Lena and I are trying to book a flight to get back now, but there's so much traffic coming in and out of El Dorado Airport for Christmas, I just don't know when we'll be able to -" 

"Don't worry about it," she said firmly, cutting him off before he could even finish that thought. "You two stay in Bogota and enjoy the rest of your holiday, I'll go to LA and sort this out." 

She could practically _hear_ the relief in Mack's voice, but, being Mack, he checked anyway. "Are you _sure,_ Dais?" 

"Of course I'm sure," she said, but even as she said the words, she felt something in her heart shatter and break. 

This time, Mack actually exhaled a sigh of relief, and it provided just the tiniest _bit_ of balm for her aching heart. 

"If you ever need us, though," Mack said, "don't hesitate to call. Okay? We'll buy out that entire airport if we have to, but if you need us, we _will_ get to you." 

Despite the tears prickling against her eyelids, Daisy managed a nod, and a watery, sniffly kind of laugh. "Okay," she repeated. 

"Let us know how it goes, yeah?" Mack asked, and when she had promised, he hung up with a final reminder that he loved her, and she could call anytime. 

Daisy barely even heard it, though, instead turning around to look at Jemma with wide, helpless and completely _hopeless_ eyes. 

Because the thing was… she liked Jemma, she _really_ did, and the thought of just leaving her behind was tearing out her heart, but… 

But. Sky's the Limit was the first thing that had ever been _hers_ , the first thing _she_ had made that a whole lot of people had seen the value of, the first thing that had proved to her that she _did_ have value. 

She couldn't give it up, no matter what, she just… she _couldn't_. The orphan in her whispered, _people come and go, but_ you _made this, you can always rely on it. It's special._

And it _was_ special to her, special in so many more ways than it just being her first real project. 

It was… it was her security, her armour against the world, her _proof_ that despite all the hell life threw at her, she _was_ worth more than they all said. 

And now Ward - _Ward_ , the guy who had _cheated on her,_ broken her heart, and fucking emotionally manipulated her - wanted to _take that away?_

No way in the actual bloody _hell._

But, oh, _God_ , the thought of having to unceremoniously leave Jemma behind, when they had only just started to build something real - 

Jemma herself was avoiding Daisy's gaze, instead typing rapidly at something on her phone. "Here," she said, still not looking at her directly as she held out her phone for Daisy to see. "I've booked you an Uber for the first thing tomorrow morning, you'll need to go back up to your cabin and pack all your things up now." 

Daisy nodded, swallowing hard past the sudden and painfully heavy lump in her throat. "Thank you," she managed to say. 

And then, because she couldn't _not_ , and the burst of pain was too great for her to keep in - 

"Are we…" 

But she couldn't even finish that sentence. 

Are we _okay?_ No, of course they weren't _okay,_ Daisy was literally ditching Jemma to fly off to LA, and before they had even properly finished their first date. 

But what else could she _do?_ It wasn't like letting Sky's the Limit fall into Ward's hands was even an _option_ , so she had… she had _nothing_ else she could possibly do. 

And Jemma knew it too. Lowering her phone, she gave Daisy a small, tight smile. "I know how much your blog means to you, and I'd never ask you to give it up." 

But, _oh_ , she knew Jemma well enough by now that she could _instantly_ tell that wasn't a real smile - there was none of the warmth behind it, none of the infectious enthusiasm and ever-bright compassion that had made Daisy fall so hard, so fast. 

What was there for her to do, though, but follow helplessly in Jemma's footsteps to the car park? 

The chilly winter wind, which just half an hour ago she had barely even noticed, was bitingly cold against her body now, almost like it was mocking her. 

She wrapped her coat more tightly around herself, and the wind blew her tears into freezing tracks against her cheeks. 

Jemma, she noticed bleakly, had reached her car, and was gesturing wordlessly at the driver's door. 

Daisy saw that it was the side that still had the little dent in from where she had slid into that ditch - the ditch that _Jemma_ had rescued her from - and she wanted to cry. 

But she squared her shoulders, focusing all her attention on Sky's the Limit and trying her hardest to ignore how her heart felt just as cold inside as the icy wind blowing around her right now. 

"So this is goodbye," Jemma said quietly when she unlocked the doors, her voice thick with emotion. 

Daisy's chest squeezed, and she felt emotions rise up in her throat so hard and so fast that she could barely breathe. "Not… forever?" she managed to choke out. 

But Jemma busied herself with sending the details of the Uber booking to Daisy's phone, and did not reply. 

Daisy felt sick to her stomach as she got into the car, feeling as though her heart had turned into lead right there in her chest as she turned the key in the ignition. 

Jemma raised one hand to wave goodbye, and the gesture seemed perfectly pleasant and friendly, but she wasn't smiling. 

Daisy's heart clenched so hard that her vision swam for a moment, and it took her a few rapid blinks to realise that it was actually due to a hot, painful flood of tears stinging the backs of her eyelids. 

There was nothing she could do to stop it. 

And, though logically she _knew_ she had made the right decision, the awful, achingly _hollow_ feeling didn't go away for the rest of the night, or the next morning. 

And as she watched Shieldsbury dwindle into a distant, snow-covered speck through the back window of her Uber, she couldn't help the thought that rang through her brain like the echo of a death bell - _did I just make a terrible mistake?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Daisy! Yes, yes you did - leaving your stunning (almost) girlfriend by herself in the snow?! How _could_ you, honestly. And without a kiss, too!! 
> 
> Speaking as an author, though, the almost-but-not-quite-there kiss was fully intentional on my part - because you know how in Hallmark movies, something always goes wrong right as the couple is _about_ to kiss and have their happily ever after? Yeah, well… this is that; the unnecessarily dramatic, pining-y complication phase of the rom-com. 
> 
> If I can offer you _some_ good news, though - while it's almost always true that Hallmark rom-coms have unnecessary drama and overcomplications, it's _also_ almost always true that they have happy endings. And this one, my dear friends, falls beautifully into that category. 
> 
> 🥰🤗 Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I hope to see you next Thursday again with the next one 💜


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